Who's to blame?

Years back, when my addictions were just starting to ramp up, I had gone to see a councillor over my feelings of depression. He went into my childhood and then suggested that I confront my father over the issue's of emotional abuse. I mustered up the courage to do so and spoke to my fathers over my perceptions of injustice and unfairness that seemed to fill my life. I'm not sure what his thoughts were but his response was that he had done the best he could and so be it. He did not apologize for the past nor take responsibility for my current problems. In the next session with the councillor, we decided that my father would never get it and that I didn't need to have a relationship with him.

Working the twelve steps, I discovered that I am the only one that is responsible for my problems. That I would not be able to blame anyone for who I was or how I behaved. All that stuff rested squarely on my shoulders. So I accepted that responsibility, did a ninth step with my father, speaking of how I had spent a lot of years blaming him for who I was and would no longer do that. I shared a bit of my story, of where my drinking got me and how AA had changed my life. When I was done, he looked at me and said, "I don't know what the big deal is, years back I quit smoking so you can quit drinking. It's simple. Just stop." So I decided, again, that my father would never get it and that I didn't need to have a relationship with him.

I still needed help to fully release all the anger and resentments I carried in my relationship with my father. After bing able to do so, those resentments were replaced with something akin ambivalence. I was able to move past all those memories and again tell myself I would never have a relationship with my Dad that went beyond Christmas and birthdays.

Thomas Moore, in his book "SoulMates" wrote the following paragraph:

Questions about evil and suffering are the most profound mysteries we can tackle, but blaming our struggling human parents for these utterly deep mysteries distracts us from our own responsibilities. The result is that we lay a huge burden on our parents and other relatives, one thy cannot bear successfully, and we also avoid facing the mysteries of evil and suffering in our own lives, and as our own individual, life-shaping challenges. James Hillman has made the interesting observation that by divinizing our parents, we dehumanize them. Or, to put it another way, when we idealize the family, we also demonize it. When we resolve our own questions of absolute meaning by reducing them to family dynamics, ultimately blaming our parents for life's difficulties, we dehumanize our parents and oversimplify the challenge of our own existence.

The advice given to me, from the chapter in the big book titled "The Family Afterwards" is:

Giving, rather than getting, will become the guiding principle.

My father owes me nothing. Nor do I owe him anything. That is a beginning.


Photo Credit: Unitopia

AA Triangle

I remember, very clearly, the advice given to me while I was a patient in a treatment centre. Get a sponsor, get a home group, get the keys to the meeting, and use the phone. Kinda like the three parts of the AA triangle: Recovery, unity, and service.

I kept that key to the meeting for about a year and a half. I didn't want to share it. I wanted to open the door, make the coffee, set up the chairs, get the literature set out, and shovel the snow off the walkway if needed. Greeting and talking with people as they arrived. There were times when I was full of self pity doing that work, sometimes I was angry, most times it was joyful and fun. But having a responsibility to open the meeting made sure I got to that meeting when I most needed it. It was also the stepping stone to other service. A couple of positions in my home group, and some work with the district.

And that led right into unity. I hated business meetings. They seemed slow and tedious. So much opinion to listen to before we could vote. Taking the vote and then having to listen again to the minority voice. Having another vote and reversing the decision. It was frustrating. I had to keep my mouth shut while all those extra voices in my head were ranting away. Kept telling my self it wasn't about me, I was in no position to get angry over the process, that I needed to accept. After over three years of business meetings, I'm finally starting to get a bit of serenity at them, allowing the process to happen as it's supposed to, and not having to act as an impatient child. Maybe even being able to see the laughter hidden in the meetings.

Recovery has taken on a whole new meaning lately. Working with sponsee's is, by far, the best things that's happened to my recovery. As I work the steps with a sponsee, it's like they are holding up a mirror to me as I see my own struggles within their own. As we go through the big book, paragraph by paragraph, I discover new gems hidden within those pages. When a sponsee takes his own will back, I learn to let go, allowing myself to feel the sadness and disappointment without trying to beat myself. When they pick up chips along the way, I can celebrate their success without having to take credit for it. I learn how to be a human being through the relationship with a sponsee.

That triangle is encompassed by a circle. A circle that represents the AA world. A world where I found God, where I found sobriety, where the path to becoming a person was opened up to me. A world where giving of one self to help another was the way to ward of selfishness, self pity, and fear. A world where I could feel my feelings and not have to go hide in the bottom of a bottle.

It's a great place.

Photo Credit: billjacobus1

Weaving lessons

I've worked for the same employer for over 30 years and was recently told that my services are no longer required. I have been laid off and am now pursuing other activities. I would like to be able to go university and have another career before I retire someone off in the future.

But, and I shouldn't be surprized, is how much fear I have around loosing my job and having a future that's not full of salary and benefits.

On page 67 of the Big Book there is a paragraph that reads:

Notice that the word "fear" is bracketed alongside the difficulties with Mr. Brown, Mrs. Jones, the employer, and the wife. This short word somehow touches about every aspect of our lives. It was an evil and corroding thread; the fabric of our existence was shot through with it. It set in motion trains of circumstances which brought us misfortune we felt we didn't deserve. But did not we, ourselves, set the ball rolling? Sometimes we think fear ought to be classed with stealing. It seems to cause more trouble.

I think the analogy of an evil and corroding thread is so apt. My life has been so full of fear, all decisions made in the past, especially before I fell into recovery, had been made for the easier, softer way, always to appease my fear. Even now, trying to make decisions about the future seems impossible. Fear has stolen so much from me, stopped me from taking any kind of risk. Made it impossible to truely enjoy life.

Well, the feeling of fear is still alive and well within me. I'm hoping that what's different today is that my decisions are not being made with fear driving the bus. That today, as a result of turning my will and life over to my Higher Power's care, of being aware of how my character defects can control me, of working those 12 steps of recovery, I can make better decisions. I can let myself understand that they don't have to be the perfect decisions. I can allow my partner and I to make the decisions together. I can talk about them with my sponsor and with other elder statesmen in our group.

As I write this, I am filled with gratitude that I am a part of a community. I am no longer alone. That there is so much help and experience out in the world that people are willing to share. That I am partnered with a wonderful human being. I never imagined this as part of the package when I decided entered recovery. An amazing gift.

This morning, I am still feeling fearful. Lots of things in life seem to be up in the air, with me being powerless over all of them. Feeling the fears is one thing, acting because of them is another. With the help of a Higher Power, with the wisdom of community, and having a sober mind, we can make choices and actually be a part of life. Wow.

Photo Credit: John Burke

Humbly asked God.

The topic of discussion, last night, was step seven. "Humbly asked God to remove our shortcomings." We read the chapter on the step from "Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions" and this particular passage jumped out at me:

The chief activator of our defects has been self-centered fear--primarily fear that we would lose something we already possessed or would fail to get something we demanded. Living upon a basis of unsatisfied demands, we were in a state of continual disturbance and frustration. Therefore, no peace was to be had unless we could find a means of reducing these demands. (page 76)

Seems like I have lots of reasons for fear at this particular moment. The biggest one is my addicted child who decided to take his life back into his own hands and have fun again. He's slipped a few times over the past couple of months and the frequency is increasing. He moved out of our home last week and is now with a couple friends he made while in AA. Friends who are having the same problems as he. If I dwell on it, the fear grows out of proportion to the problem.

When I was a child, I felt a lot of fear. That fear disappeared when I drank. When I sobered up, I got all my fears back. Most of my fears I can let go of and put in my Higher Power's hands. The fears around my child seem to be the most troublesome. Trouble being I have read the statistics around recovery, I've listened to the stories of parents who walk the same road that my partner and I travel. Makes it hard to just trust God.

I need to remind myself (constantly) that I am powerless over addiction. Both my own drinking and my child's drugging. The big book reminds me that probably no human power could have relieved my alcoholism nor anyone elses. My partner and I love this child deeply but we cannot cure him. We both let go of him in our own ways. Myself by placing him in God's hands and praying that God's will be done in his life and then making an effort to trust God. I also pray that I would have help in staying out of the way. Not to jump in and start playing God again. Not to play silly games that would temporarily relieve my fears. I hope that he will come to that place of surrender and turn his will and life over to God's care. I also know there is no magic wand that changes us, that my child needs to become willing on his own.

What is important for me is to do what God want's me to do today. To reach out to others and be of service to them. To continue to work my program of recovery. To be available to sponsee's and not let my life's circumstances divert me from what is working well in my life.

I haven't written here for half a year. I have remained clean and sober, by the grace of God. In March, I reached the three year milestone on my journey of recovery. So grateful for the privilege of being on this journey. Working with others seems to be the key for me. Gets me out of my own thinking and changes the me to we.

There is a sentence just before the paragraph I quoted that reads "We now clearly see that we have been making unreasonable demands upon ourselves, upon others, and upon God." Reading that seems to make it a bit easier to accept myself and my fearfulness. I don't have to solve all the problems. Just need to have some love and compassion and a willingness to listen and to share my experience. Can keep the fixing tools put away, they don't work.

Thank you for letting me share, to see these words on a screen. Somehow, it brings clarity to my thoughts.

Photo credit: Aussieqall

sabbatical

Still sober, still clean. I'm going to take a break from blogging. I want to explore a different area of my life in the early morning time that I used to devote to reading everyone's blogs and writing in my own. Thank you for all your warmth and support, for being part of my We.